


Four Times Jared Surprised Jensen During Christmas And One Time Jensen Surprised Jared

by rei_c



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Christmas Fluff, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Schmoop, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 02:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6934669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rei_c/pseuds/rei_c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically what it says on the can. (Domestic J2 Christmas fluffy schmoop.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times Jared Surprised Jensen During Christmas And One Time Jensen Surprised Jared

They should really be back in Texas already. There's no reason to be in Vancouver, not when they've been off-set for what feels like months and there's no sure date to mark when they're going back to work. 

Still, the beginning of December finds them sitting on the couch in Jared's living room, the two dogs sleeping curled up and bookending them into place. Sadie's next to Jensen, her muzzle propped on his leg while he runs fingers over her, and Harley's half- _on_ Jared and drooling everywhere.

"We should put up a tree," Jared says, mid-commercial break. "Y'know, lights, tinsel, ornaments. And presents, we need presents." 

He stands up, abrupt and unexpected, and Jensen feels the loss of his warmth as Jared goes bounding into another room. Harley looks at him, having lost his pillow, and Jensen just shrugs. 

Half an hour later, Jared's been on the phone to Mama Padalecki -- she's sending up a box of Jared's favourite ornaments -- and he's putting on shoes, grabbing a heavy coat. "I'll be right back," he promises. 

When he leaves, Sadie and Harley both look at Jensen, as if they're asking why he's not going along. "He never asked," Jensen tells them, and if he sounds as forlorn as they look, no one else needs to know.

Jared comes back with a real tree and a garbage bag full of tinsel and lights. "Come on, Jen," he says, eyes lit up and smile threatening to break his face in half. "We need to clear out space in front of the window." 

For an hour and a half, Jared doesn't stop talking. Everything is a memory from Christmases past, like a long monologue of every Christmas Jared's ever celebrated. Jensen loves hearing Jared's stories but he heard most of these last year and they all leave him a little melancholic, right up until Jared plugs the lights in and then stands with his arm around Jensen's shoulders. 

"Our tree looks _awesome_ ," Jared says. 

Jensen thaws. Their tree. He's never shared a tree with anyone other than his blood family before. Blood's one thing; this is something else, always has been, something beyond definition. He thaws and then he burns, later, laying on the couch, his head in Jared's lap, watching a movie, Jared's hands running over his hair, resting on his ribs.

\--

Jensen groans, sits back on the chair and props his elbow on the table. There's tape everywhere, that and every size imaginable of wrapping paper, grinning Santas and frolicking penguins _laughing_ at him. 

"What's wrong?" Jared asks, head poked around the corner. Sadie at his heels, nosing at Jared's hand when Jensen looks, trotting in to the room for a scritch when Jensen clicks his tongue against his teeth. "Wrapping presents?" 

"Trying," Jensen grunts. "Damn stuff's possessed, I swear. Grab the salt." 

Jared laughs, comes in the room and stands behind Jensen's chair, rubs Jensen's shoulders. "Jen, all that stuff we do on set isn't, y'know, _real_. Now, go on, get a cup of coffee, and I'll do this for you." 

Jensen tilts his head back, asks, "You will?" with more hope in his voice than he's strictly comfortable with. 

"Yeah, go on," Jared says. 

The coffeepot's warm, which means Jared's just made a new brew, halfway done with cleaning up the kitchen and given up to play something on the X-Box. Jensen rolls his eyes but smiles at the same time, goes back to Jared. He stops, leans against the doorway, watches as Jared measures, cuts, folds, tapes with almost military precision, every move designed for maximum efficiency. The presents look _good_ , almost professional. 

"The fuck did you learn to wrap presents like that?" Jensen asks before he can stop himself. 

"Momma," Jared replies, finishing another package, flipping it right-side up and inspecting it. "I used to drive her crazy around Christmas, 'specially if someone gave me free reign with the candy canes and sugar cookies." Jensen snorts; imagining it's all too easy. "She'd draft me into helping with the wrapping, just to keep me occupied and in one place. Guess I never forgot." 

Jensen crosses the room, runs the hand not holding his coffee-cup through Jared's hair, tugging on one particularly curly strand. "I should send your momma a thank you note, just for that." 

\--

"Egg nog," Jared breathes, eyes lighting up as he sees the mix. " _Dude_. Egg nog. We haven't had any yet." 

Jensen's nose wrinkles. "I hate egg nog." An honest pronouncement, made with all the pouting force he can put into his voice; there is no way that Jared can convince him that egg nog is a good idea.

Jared turns to him, looking for all the world like one of his puppies. Just like that, Jensen folds. For good measure, Jared adds, "Please, Jen? Please, please, pretty please? You've never had mine. I swear it's good, okay? Please?" 

"Fine," Jensen says, lets Jared finish dragging him around the grocery store.

Jensen hides the mix when they get home and doesn't bring it up. It's not until late that night, reflections from the lights across the street spilling over the floor, when Jared remembers. He leaps off the couch, goes into the kitchen, and returns fifteen minutes later with two mugs. "It should really cool for a while, but you have to try this." 

Jensen takes one of the mugs, looks warily at the contents, sniffs and raises an eyebrow when the sharp sweet tang of alcohol nearly burns his nostrils. "How much liquor's in here?" 

"Enough," Jared replies, sitting back down next to Jensen, lines of their bodies touching from shoulder to hip to knee. "Cheers, man." 

Jared throws his back and chugs, Jensen takes one small sip and decides it isn't too bad. The taste does improve greatly, he finds out later, when licked from the inside of Jared's mouth. 

\--

"No, Jared." Jensen bites the word out, arms folded across his chest, can feel the lines on his forehead and knows exactly what Jared's seeing in his eyes. He's never been able to hide anything from Jared before and he's sure as hell not starting now. 

"But it's _carols_ ," Jared says. He should be pleading but he isn't, which means Jared's confused but willing to treat this with the same gravity that Jensen is. 

Gravity about Christmas carols; sometimes Jensen feels like an idiot but he can't help it. "It's flaunting, Jared," Jensen says, at a loss to explain it anymore than that. "I just. I just can't." 

Jared studies him, finally says, "Okay." Jensen hadn't been expecting that, not this easily. "But we at least have to go bug Tom and Jamie and Mike." Jared grins, adds, "I'll even teach you the dirty version of 'Deck the Halls,' long as you never tell my momma you heard it from me."

Jensen lets out a breath, forces himself to relax. One of these days, he'll learn. "As long as you don't tell my momma who taught you the better lyrics to 'We Three Kings.'"

"Dude, which ones?" Jared asks, dogging Jensen's heels as they get ready to go out and serenade their friends with off-colour, off-tune Christmas carols. "Tell me, Jen. Jen, tell me, c'mon, Jen, please?"

"All in good time, young padawan," Jensen grins, and yelps when Jared grabs hold of him and gives him a noogie.

\--

"We could bake cookies," Jared says. "Or cake, even. Oh! Dude! Fudge!"

Jensen shakes his head, retorts, "Jared, the last time you tried cooking something, you almost burnt the house down. No." Jared pouts. " _No_ , Jared. If you want fudge, we'll go out and buy some." 

"It's not the same, Jen."

Jared leaves that afternoon, takes the dogs to the groomer's. Jensen spends an hour on the phone with his mother, and the kitchen counter is covered in five kinds of fudge when Jared gets back. 

Harley comes bounding into the kitchen first, Sadie following more sedately behind. Jensen crouches down and pets them both, lets them lick his hands and face and neck so that he doesn't have to see Jared's face. 

Jared takes one step into the kitchen then stops, and Jensen takes a deep breath before he looks up. Jared looks like Christmas has just come early.

"You," Jared starts to say, then stops, takes one more step closer to the counter, to Jensen. "You made all this? From scratch?" 

"No," Jensen says, standing up. "I called Santa for a favour and he sent over his elves. Yes, duh, I made fudge." 

Jared blinks, like he honestly can't believe it. "For me?" 

Jensen doesn't have a chance to answer, Jared's hands over his cheeks and tilting his face up, Jared's lips against his. When Jared finally lets go, Jensen smiles, says, "Well, I'm sure as hell not gonna eat all this by myself."

"Dude. _Dude_. There have to be a billion pounds of fudge in this kitchen." Jensen looks at Jared, can see Jared trying to figure out how much he can eat at one time, how much time he needs to go between servings, how much Jensen might let him get away with. "This is _awesome_."

"Help me package it up and then you can try some," Jensen promises, and he doesn't say a word when he looks up, only halfway through boxing the peanut butter fudge, and sees chocolate smeared across Jared's lips, sees something in Jared's eyes, looking back at him, that takes his breath away.


End file.
